Unexpected Ties
by IaspiretobeDarcy828
Summary: Steve is nearly drowning in the loneliness of the twenty first century, so when he meets a young girl by the name of Peggy and she appears to be the flotation device he is looking for, he eagerly accepts her hand in friendship. If only he had known that she was Stark's daughter. Steve/Tony (Eventually)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Peggy. The rest all belong to Marvel.

A/N: Woo! New story! Not the mentioned Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. one, but one that I've had on the back burner for a while. This takes place after Avengers and will most likely not include anything from the movies following after. And this is Stony. Duh. Oh, also! I'm on Tumblr with the same user name.

Chapter 1

Steve was tired.

Technically, he knew that it took a lot to exhaust him. The serum had not only given him super strength, but also super endurance. It took, literally, an alien invasion to fatigue him. But this tired was more emotional than physical.

Steve was tired of the twenty first century.

There were some amazing things about it, like the amount of food accessible, or the amount of medical advancements, or even the new technology that had been created. Sure, Steve still didn't understand half of it, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate how it made life easier for some people.

That being said, even with the new advancements, the future was still kind of a disappointment to Steve. People were still cruel, which he expected, because he knew that it was basic human nature. But he had not expected the amount of good people to decrease.

It amazed him sometimes, how uncaring the world had gotten. Everywhere he walked he saw people too caught up in the glowing screen in front of them to care about the world just beyond it. He had been walking the other day down the sidewalk, just walking, because these days he really didn't have anywhere to go, and someone had bumped into him. He hadn't expected them to do much, just apologize, but the person hadn't even stopped, hadn't even looked up from the phone held in her palm.

In the nineteen forties, that would have never happened. Even if you didn't like someone, and a lot of people hadn't been overly fond of Steve back then, they would have at least paused, looked up to see who they had bumped into. And manners had been so inbred back then that Steve probably would have at least gotten a grudging apology.

There were many things that were inbred of the people in this time, but manners did not seem to be one of them.

If Steve were being honest, which he usually was, it was not just the technology that was making him tired. It was the loneliness. Steve had always been someone who needed to be surrounded by people. He was not someone who could survive on his own. Back in the forties Bucky had been his constant, his godsend. He had been the one to keep Steve from the loneliness that now seemed to overwhelm him.

The issue was, besides the fact that Steve had never been very swell at making friends, that there weren't very many people in this time that Steve could find he wanted to be friends with, never mind the other way around. Sure, he had Natasha, who with increasing frequency went on missions with him, but he couldn't tell if she was his friend and it was just that she was generally not a very open person, or if she merely tolerated him because he was an asset in the field she lived in.

And that would have been fine, but Natasha was the person he would say he was closest to in the Avengers. Bruce was nice enough, but Stark was right when he said he was tiptoeing. It was hard to be around someone who was too scared of himself to engage in any conversation longer than a couple minutes. Clint was… well, he was hard to read. Natasha trusted him, so Steve trusted him in the field, but beyond that Steve wasn't quite sure how he felt towards the man. He was friendly, but a little bit too much like Stark, though in a much quieter way. Thor was friendly, and Steve was sure that in him he would find a good friendship, but Thor was often gone, off to Mexico or dealing with problems on his own planet. Or realm. Steve had never really gotten that straight, despite the amount of times Stark had attempted to explain it in his arrogant way.

Stark was, well, Stark was everything that Steve despised. He was loud, arrogant, and constantly on the move. He didn't seem to ever consider how his actions affected the ones around him, so long as he got the result that he wanted. He was science where Steve was art. And worst of all, he was completely unpredictable. He didn't fit into any box that Steve tried to categorize him in. It would have been easy, to label him as a cold man, but there were moments when he slipped, and Steve could see kindness leaking through the cracks of his mask.

Moments like those made Steve feel odd and awkward, like the little kid from Brooklyn, and that was the worst of it. Stark ignited things, more than just fury, though there was a lot of that, in Steve, things that Steve did not want to ever feel.

So looking to the Avengers for friends was not a possibility. So Steve went to the streets, hoping to find at least one kindred spirit, one person who he could identify with. But it was as if Steve had woken up in an entirely different world, where the people spoke a different language and had entirely different customs. He didn't understand these people, who walked around with more friends on the line instead of in the real world.

The issue was, really, that Steve was looking for people his age, or at least close. But what the people his age did, wanted, was not what the people back in the forties wanted. Steve's entire life, and a lot of others, had been centered around getting in the army and defending his country. But American's these days, especially around Steve's age, were completely casual with their country loyalty. It was hard to imagine the people who called the United States "'merica" ever defending it with their lives.

Not that Steve could exactly blame them. The America they lived in was not the one he had fought for. He had fought to keep people from being slaves, but in the end they had just become slaves to a different master other than Hitler-technology.

Steve stepped into Presby Park. It was a small park, close to civilization but not as popular as Central Park. It was the perfect place for Steve to go when he was feeling lonely. There was never anyone there to keep him company, but just the serenity of the park was comforting. Steve often went there to draw or think.

He walked towards the tree he usually sat under, pulling his sketchbook out of his bag. He sat down, shifting until he was comfortable, and then started to draw. It was harder today, than usual, to get into the correct headspace of drawing, though he couldn't quite place why. Just a tickle down his spine, his instincts nudging him.

A leaf drifted down, landing almost perfectly on his sketchbook.

Steve stood up quickly, dropping his sketchbook carefully off to the side as his hands curled into fist. But no enemy jumped out at him. In fact, nearly nothing moved at all for a couple of moments before a head popped out above him.

"Hi," The girl smiled at him. She was small, with dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. There was something incredibly familiar about her smile. "I'm Peggy."

Steve was distracted from trying to place the girl by the shock of hearing her name. Whenever Peggy was mentioned it was like a blow to the gut. Steve hadn't loved her, but he knew that he could have, if he had been given the chance. And she was the perfect symbol of all that was right with his world. She had been kind and strong, and Steve had been amazed by her.

"I'm Steve," He finally said. He peered up at her, raising a hand against the glare of the sun peeking through the leaves. "Have you been up there every time I come here?"

"Maybe," The girl hedged, her smile disappearing slightly before coming back full force, unrestrainable. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," Steve said. And then, unable to help himself, "I knew someone with your name, once."

"Really?" The girl asked, leaning closer to him. Her brown eyes sparkled slightly with compassion and Steve realized he must not have been hiding his emotions as well as he wanted to be. "You want to tell me about her?"

As Steve climbed up into the tree beside her, he felt something in him lighten. It was early on, but she just might have been the friend Steve was looking for.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Peggy. The Avengers belong to Marvel, who I'm pretty sure belongs to Disney.

A/N: Please review! I love reviews. Tell me you love it, tell me you hate it. Just review. I got spoiled by Instantaneous Connections, because every time I posted a chapter I got like ten reviews in return. It would be great if that happened in this story too. Thanks to all of those who have followed or favorited this story though. Not much action in this chapter, just more character development.

Chapter 2

"Alright Captain?" Clint jostled Steve with his elbow and Steve startled, sitting up straighter. He noticed Fury's eye linger over the pair, but he didn't break his tirade with Stark, so Steve figured that it was okay he wasn't exactly listening. In fact, he was sure it was just the usual. Stark needed to be a team player, he shouldn't take those types of risks, and just because he was a millionaire he didn't need to destroy everything he could.

The issue, Steve knew, was that they really weren't a team. They had no emotional connections with each other, and though S.H.I.E.L.D. seemed to think that emotions were the equivalent of weakness, Steve knew the truth. Connections made a team stronger. One needed to have a least a friendship with your teammates, to have a basic knowledge of how they thought and worked with conflict or else they would never function as a team.

Steve suspected that was why Fury had lied and told them all that Phil had died. They needed the push, he understood that from a tactician view point. And it had worked. They had worked brilliantly in the field, using each other's strengths to show their enemies' weaknesses. Steve could still remember how his shield had vibrated when Stark had sent his repulsors towards him, how he had a brief rush of heat and happiness, because that was how a team worked. For a moment it was just like how it had been with the Howling Commandos.

But as Stark had said, they weren't soldiers. They were superheroes, and apparently superheroes did not form connections based off of one battle, especially when they found out that the man they had been avenging had not really been dead at all.

"Are you listening to me?" Fury demanded of Stark. The man in question looked up, brown eyes startling into concentration and he gave Fury his best innocent grin. Neither Fury nor Steve fell for it, both because they had seen it too often and knew that Stark was never innocent, and also because from his angle Steve could see the glow of the phone Stark was trying to hide in his lap.

"Of course I am," Stark said. "What else could I have to do that is more important than listening to your dulcet tones?" He raised a hand to his chin, mock pondering. "Oh wait, there is the matter of running a business. And just about anything else in the world."

Steve watched Fury's jaw tighten and for a second it seemed like he was going to retaliate, but then the fight visibly left his eyes. He probably did have something better to do than lecture Stark, though Steve couldn't imagine what. As far as Steve could tell S.H.I.E.L.D. ran itself.

"You fuckers are dismissed," Fury said. The Avengers stood up hurriedly, just like children after school had finally been dismissed. Fury glowered at them. "Nice of you all to finally start listening."

"So we're not free to go?" Bruce asked. He looked itchy, sitting in a seat at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters with his shoulders drawn in, and he kept sending looks towards the agents every time the passed the table. Steve did not need to be Stark to figure out that he was uncomfortable.

"Go," Fury granted. "None of what I say gets through your thick heads anyway."

Steve stood up, ignoring Stark's indignant squawk that he was a genius, thank you very much, and tried to remain casual, not showing how much he wanted to get out of there. He figured that if he redressed quickly Peggy might still be there when he got to the park.

"Easy Rogers," Stark smirked at him as he entered the changing room, watching Steve hurriedly pull on a pair of jeans. "Got a hot date to get to?"

"No," Steve hurriedly shook his head. That was a disgusting idea, that he would be interested in Peggy in that sort of way. Yes, he was enamored with her as much as the other Peggy he knew, but it was certainly a different type of endearment. Peggy, this time's Peggy, was not only fifteen years old, but also was strictly his friend. A much needed friend, but never anything more. Steve was lonely, but he would never be that lonely. That was disgusting. He held pedophiles in the lowest regard, possibly even under Nazis.

"Okay," Stark said, eyeing him from the corner of his eye. He clearly did not believe Steve, but that was fine. Steve had to go. He may not have been dating Peggy, but he did have a date to keep with her.

* * *

When he got to the park he walked the familiar pathway to what he now had dubbed "Their Tree", breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that Peggy was still there.

Peggy, more than being a good person, was like a breath of fresh air in the twenty first century. She could use technology, Steve had seen her do it, but sometimes she seemed just as out of time as Steve was. She wrote in notebooks (and one her arms, and legs, and anywhere else she could reach), instead of the little tablets everyone else seemed to use. She listened to music through an iPod, but it wasn't the trashy music that Steve heard filtered through nearly every store he went through. (Steve liked to think he was a fairly open person to new things, but seriously. Some of that music was not music at all.) Peggy's clothes covered a suitable amount of her body.

And more than anything, she had character, much more character than Steve was sure even he had at that age. Much more character than Steve was certain half the world had anymore. She was not easily swayed-she had her opinions and she stuck with them. She knew what she liked and did not like something just because other people told her to. She knew who she was, and so far Steve had never seen her compromise who that was for someone else.

And it helped that she did not dissolve into hysterical fit of giggles whenever Steve came close.

"Hi," Peggy grinned at him as he climbed into the tree, wincing when the branches creaked underneath his weight. Steve was waiting for the day that the branches he was sitting on fell.

"Hi," Steve said, looking over her, smiling tiredly when he noticed the lines of poetry she had written down her arms. Peggy stared closer.

"Rough day at work?" She asked him, clicking the pen she held in her hand.

"You could say that," Steve chuckled, though in fact the rough part had been after work. It was exhausting to be hostile to Stark.

"We should go get ice cream," Peggy suggested, her brown eyes instantly alight as she nearly bounced in enthusiasm. Steve was struck once again with déjà vu. Peggy reminded him so much of someone, but he could not, for the life of him, figure out who exactly that was.

It had to be someone from before, because besides Peggy herself Steve barely knew people in this time. But he could not figure out who it was. It would be irritating, if he didn't get so distracted with whatever new thing Peggy started to ramble about.

"Yes?" Peggy asked. Steve hesitated. Usually with Peggy he could pretend, existing in their little bubble that was not full of a world Steve didn't know. Going to get ice cream would break that serenity and make Steve admit that Peggy was a part of the twenty first century he hated so much.

But that wasn't really fair to Peggy, to put so much pressure on her being Steve's bridge to his time. He realized now that he needed to accept that Peggy was a part of the twenty first century.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as Steve thought it was.

"Yeah, let's go get ice cream."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own of these characters besides Peggy and any random OCs. Marvel owns any publicly recognizable characters.

A/N: So I'm changing this a little. I really like the change that Tony went through to become the man he was today, so I'm not getting rid of that, because I believe in his redemption as a person, but I'm just shifting it a little, to fit with the timeline I have constructed in my head. Hopefully it works, and if it doesn't, please just roll with me and pretend that it does.

Chapter 3

When JARVIS told Tony that there was a baby on his doorstep, he made up his mind instantly.

He did not want it.

Besides the fact that he had absolutely no one to look up to for an example, _thanks Dad_ , he knew that his lifestyle was not cohesive to good parenting. He wanted to give it/she/he as good as a chance it could get. Lord knows the poor thing obviously did not get the best genes it could wish for. And he knew that it's/hers/his best chance would be far, far, away from him and his destructive habits and deep rooted Daddy issues.

So he had called Pepper, told her to come pick it up and bring it to the closest orphanage, or whatever was around these parts, and to absolutely not let him see it.

But because Pepper was Pepper and took none of his bullshit, she completely ignored the order, picked the strangely silent baby wrapped in a thin blue blanket up from the doorstep, and brought it to her boss.

Tony caught sight of the baby, and exactly what he was afraid of happened.

He instantly fell in love with the soft little baby girl. And because he was selfish, he kept her.

He wasn't a fool, and he knew it was going to be hard. Sobering up turned out to be the easy part, because whenever he got the urge to drink he would think of the little baby who giggled and gripped his finger as hard as she could. The hard part was everything else.

Raising a child was _hard_ , it turned out. There were a million things you had to remember, and a million other things you had to worry about. After learning about SIDS, Tony hadn't been able to sleep a full night through the time span it was most common in until Peggy had passed it. And things only got worse after that, because then Peggy started to move around, and more dangerously, climb. Peggy climbed on _everything_. No matter what Tony moved or baby proofed, she would find a way to climb and subsequently fall off of it. Tony was surprised he did not go prematurely gray from running around catching her.

And then there was feeding her. Peggy was incredibly good, for a little girl, at eating food that did not look appealing to Tony even in his adult life, but even she had her limits. She would not eat kale, even though it was supposedly really good for her, and even the thought of raisins sent her into a revolt. And kiwis, well kiwis were traumatic. He had barely pushed it past her lips and she had been gasping for air. Tony couldn't say that anything terrified him more than an allergic reaction to kiwis.

But despite the difficulties, Tony loved being a dad. It was the one role that he found he was the most comfortable in, because he wasn't a Stark, or even Tony, but purely Daddy, and to Peggy Daddy was the highest praise she could bestow on someone.

Days with Peggy became weeks, which because months, and then years, and Tony now could not imagine how he had ever survive without her.

It was her who he was now texting, pretending to half listen to Coulson as he went over what they did well and what they did wrong during the fight. Tony wished that he could pretend that he wasn't in danger, but Peggy was too smart for that, so they had worked out an agreement that Tony would text her as soon as he could to let her know he was alright.

Tony was lucky, incredibly lucky, that Peggy was okay with him being a superhero. He loved doing this, saving the world, fiercely, but he knew that as soon as she gave the word, he would quit it. But Peggy was not like Pepper, and recognized how much this was a part of him, of how he needed it, and was even proud of what he was doing.

Tony could not remember ever being proud of something his father did.

"Stark," It was the good old Captain who tore his attention away from decrypting the emojis Peggy had just sent him. His voice was pissy, as it always was when he was addressing Tony. Tony wouldn't have believed him to be capable of another tone if it hadn't been for Peggy assuring him that he could. "Are you even listening?"

"Eh," Tony waved his hand in a wishy-washy motion. Coulson had paused to listen to then argue, and Tony met his eyes for a moment, checking to make sure that Coulson was still fine with their agreement – he would pretend to listen and Coulson would allow him to text his daughter. Coulson gave him a brief nod. He, like all people who knew Peggy, adored her.

In fact, most of the people in this room knew, and adored, Peggy, something that Tony could not decide whether he liked or not. It had all started when Natasha had come to work for him undercover. Tony had known who she was, of course he did, he was Tony Stark, but there was nothing to do about it. He would rather S.H.I.E.L.D. send someone to his house rather than abduct him. And it was then inevitable that Natasha meet Peggy. He wasn't going to make Peggy sneak around her own house just because a nosy agent.

Tony figured that if someone had to know that he had a daughter, it might as well be someone who could kill whoever came at her with a pinky.

Strangely, or not, if you knew Peggy, Peggy and Natasha got along like a house on fire. Natasha delighted in teaching Peggy new moves and telling her stories about her missions. During Natasha's stint of working for Tony they could often be seen painting each other's nails and braiding each other's hair.

The one downfall of Natasha knowing was that it meant Phil and Clint both knew about Peggy as well. Phil,Tony was okay with, because he had met the man, and miraculously he looked amused most of the time by Tony's antics. Clint, he was a little leery of. He had never met the man, and though Natasha trusted him, when Tony learned that he had been taken over by Loki and he realized that Clint knew, damn it, Clint _knew_ , his heart had dropped all the way to the floor.

But then, all's well that ends well, and it had ended well, and that was what really mattered. Later he would come to see Clint as a friend, not that he would ever tell the douche bag that, and the man would often send little trinkets he had bought while on a mission home with Tony for his daughter.

Bruce had been the one person Tony had made the full conscious decision to introduce to Peggy. He had specifically asked Bruce to come live with them in the hopes that Peggy would meet him, because he knew Peggy would be the best person to draw Bruce out of his self-hatred funk. His daughter had an inarguable way of finding fault in every self-deprecating logic and was absolutely uncompromising. Tony wasn't sure if he had ever been prouder than the night when she had put Bruce and herself in lockdown until Bruce admitted that he was not a monster.

Thor knew purely by accident, because one time he had landed on Tony's roof in the hopes of finding shelter for the night, and Peggy had been up on the roof. Tony had gone up to find Peggy and Thor arguing about his hammer, and whether it truly was a good measure of worthiness or if it was rigged.

Peggy was winning, obviously.

Steve was the only person in this room that didn't know Peggy. Well, he knew her, but he didn't know that Peggy was Tony's. Tony had been as surprised as Peggy when she came home one day claiming that Captain America had climbed into her tree, and for a while he had been unsure as to whether to encourage their relationship. Steve hated him, after all, and Tony wasn't sure he wanted that negativity around his daughter. But it was soon clear that Steve was as besotted with Peggy was anybody else, and Tony had to admit that there were worse people for his daughter to hang out with than Captain America.

It was strange, Tony mused as Steve continued to rant at him. He used to have two people he trusted implicatively with Peggy; Pepper and Rhodey. And even then he sometimes feared that they would not take care of her when he was gone. Pepper was not the best with kids, which was odd, because she dealt with Tony all the time, and Tony knew Rhodey would want to stay with Peggy, but then his military duties would get in the way.

But now. Now he had a multitude of people he could depend on to take care of his daughter, and he could rest easily knowing that if anything should happen to him, at the least Clint would be there for her, and in the best scenario Captain America would be there.

At least he could trust that Steve would love her, even if he would never love Tony.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel characters. If I did, Civil War would be about Tony and Steve arguing which date they would get married on. And I have a feeling that's not going to happen.

A/N: New chapter! You're welcome! That sounded pretentious. Sorry for the lack of a chapter last week, I had to study for finals, so much studying, so many finals. (Shudders). But not it is summer time, I am free, and here is a new one. I don't know too much about this subject, although I did do research, but if I get anything wrong it is not meant to offend and please excuse me. Also, this is kind of short, but it seemed like too perfect of a place to stop to pass up on it. I hope you all enjoy and I did it justice.

Chapter 4

"Steve?" Peggy prodded him gently and Steve withdrew himself from his drawing haze. To his surprise and embarrassment, it was once again Tony's face gracing the page. Well, perhaps surprise was not the correct word. Tony constantly commandeered his attention while drawing. Steve tried to tell himself that it was because he was such an interesting subject and so hard to capture onto paper, like a challenge, but even he didn't believe himself.

"Steve," Peggy repeated, sounding bemused. Steve shook his head and hurriedly flipped the flap over his sketch book, hoping she hadn't seen his drawing. If she had, she didn't say anything.

"Yes?" He asked Peggy, shifting in his perch on the tree.

"Will you read this chapter for me and see if it makes sense?" Peggy requested. Steve felt absurdly honored. Peggy was constantly writing whenever they were sitting here, her hands moving so fast that sometimes the pen smudged because the first line hadn't had time to dry before she was moving on. But she was as secretive and private about her writing as Steve was with his drawings. Steve understood, of course. Creating art, whether it be with words or lines and shapes, was personal. You had to put a little bit of yourself into art, and sometimes it was the part of you that you tried to hide the most.

Not that Steve could see anything about herself that Peggy would ever have to hide.

"Sure," Steve said, taking the notebook that Peggy offered him. A loose page fell to the ground during the transfer and Steve moved to gather it.

"I'll get it," Peggy suggested eagerly. Steve agreed, knowing that if someone was looking at his drawings he would want something to do other than stand around and watch them too.

Steve watched her to make sure she got off of the tree okay and then turned his attention to the notebook. Peggy's handwriting was small and more than a little smudged, but he could make it out easy enough. He eagerly started to read and then froze. He blinked a couple of times and then reread the sentence, making sure he had read it right. He had. Maybe it wasn't what Peggy had intended to write? Had it been a mistake?

"So?" Peggy climbed back up onto the tree. "What do you think?"

Wordlessly Steve looked from the notebook to her. She seemed so nice, so innocent. Why would she write something like this? Had it been a joke? Had she seen something in him, something he had tried to hide, and capitalized on it? Did she think this was funny?

He hadn't thought her capable of such cruelty. Maybe somebody else he knew in the twenty first century, but not Peggy.

"What's with that face?" Peggy asked him, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. "Do you not like it?"

She seemed innocent as she rubbed self-consciously up and down her arm, smearing the dark line of words she had written previously. Steve still felt like he had been clobbered over the head. He just didn't understand. Did her parents know that she was writing such things? Why was she writing such things? Who would read this without their stomach turning?

"Steve? You're scaring me. Why are you making that face?" Peggy leaned forward worriedly. Steve shoved her notebook at her, nearly toppling her over. "Steve?"

"I don't understand why you would write such things." Steve confessed. "And honestly, I don't think your parents would appreciate it if they knew you were."

"Knew what? Did I put a sex scene in it? Wait, of course I didn't, I don't even know how sex works. Well, I mean, I know, but I don't know, like by a first person experience. Regardless, I wouldn't have written one in this story." Peggy stared at him as her babbles quieted, brown eyes sparkling with confusion and a little bit of hurt. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Let me see," Steve huffed, suddenly impatient. He pulled the notebook back from Peggy and found the line. " _'Clark sat down comfortably in Ben's lap, snuggling into his boyfriend's embrace._ ' Why would you write something like that? It's disgusting."

That sounded legitimate to Steve's ears. He wasn't sure if he personally believed it, but that was what he was supposed to say. Being homosexual was a bad thing, something that was hidden away in private rooms if one succumbed to its lure. It was certainly not something a fifteen year old should be writing about.

"Are you telling me no one has told you about the gay rights movement?" Peggy demanded. Steve felt as if his breath had been robbed from him once more. What was she doing, saying it so loudly? _In public_?

Then the rest of her words sunk into his comprehension.

"The g-gay rights movement?" Steve repeated. Peggy sighed, looking skyward with the most irritated expression Steve had ever seen for a moment before taking Steve's hand. "Let's go. You need to see this."

* * *

Steve breathed deeply, staring at the book he had just closed. This seemed all so surreal, from Peggy's easy acceptance of the topic to the way the librarian didn't even look shocked when Peggy asked her to direct them to the books about gay rights. And now this book.

The things it was telling Steve seemed all too impossible. Apparently there had been gay rights movements even when he was alive, though he had certainly been shielded from it. And it had only increased from then. Now it seemed like there were more people who were for gay marriage then against it. There were states where it was allowed, TV shows where people like _that_ , like him, were shown, and in a good light too. One of the states where it was allowed was here, where he was sitting.

"Here, look at this," Peggy returned with a paper held in her hand. Steve took it carefully, unsure if he wanted to read it. He could not take much more today. His brain felt way too full with hope and confusion.

Nevertheless, he turned the glossy page over and read the headline.

Gay marriage was legal in Ireland. That was a whole country. A whole country had made gay marriage legal.

He felt like one of Stark's machines, smoking and shutting down as they were unable to compute what they were told.

Being gay was okay.

He was okay.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except Peggy. Which I am sure you know by now.

A/N: So I just realized, like the irresponsible fanfiction writer I am, that Ireland didn't legalize gay marriage until just recently, which means that it doesn't fit at all with the time line of this story. And I made Steve read a page about Ireland legalizing gay marriage. Sorry about that. Just humor me and pretend that it is Canada, okay? Canada has had it legal for a while now, because Canada is awesome. Also, sorry about the lack of a chapter last week. I know, I know, I'm a terrible writer when it comes to updating frequently. Oh, and a reminder too- this is canon with the Avengers and nothing after.

Chapter 5

"Coming at you, Cap," Tony's voice, made slightly tinny by the suit he was encased in, wafted through Steve's ear, and he was caught by the sudden thought of what it would be like if Tony's voice wasn't in his ear because of comm units, but rather because Tony was that close to him in person, his breath huffing out across Steve's face as his hands, calloused and capable, as Steve had seen so many times, steadied himself on Steve's biceps, and then Steve would only have to turn, just slightly, and…

A giant spider slammed into Steve, knocking him off of his feet. He coughed and rolled with the momentum, getting back to his feet easily and throwing his shield at the arachnid. It sliced through it easily, spraying blood and other bug guts in a two feet diameter, and not for the first time Steve was glad that it was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s job to clean up after the mess they made, even if it did make him feel a little guilty.

"Alright Captain?" Natasha asked him, tossing a spider over her shoulder. As if by cue, an arrow sped through it.

"Fine," Steve said, punching down another spider as it leapt at him. The issue was that they were easily killed, but they also appeared to be easily reproduced, because for everyone one that Steve killed, three more seemed to appear in its place, irritatingly reminiscent of Hydra.

"Really?" Tony asked, his voice brimming with humor. "Are you sure they aren't…bugging you?"

Steve gave the obligatory groan at Tony's, admittedly, horrible pun, but couldn't stop himself from feeling a small amount of humor. He liked that the comms were filled with light hearted chatter amidst the occasional warning. It wasn't strictly professional, but usually fights were when everyone was too busy to have their guard up, and everyone could see just how much of a dork Tony Stark really was. Sure, it made it smart even more when they were done fighting, and Tony seemed to go back to realizing just how much he hated Steve, but Steve still couldn't help but revel in the moment while he could.

Okay, maybe Steve was being slightly dramatic. Tony didn't seem to hate Steve anymore. In fact, sometimes he appeared downright civil. It was just that downright civil was not what Steve wanted. At all. He wanted Tony to be comfortable around him, to joke with him like he did Clint, and not in the thinly barbed way they sometimes still had. He wanted Tony to poke and prod him like he did Bruce, to flirt outrageously with him like he did with Natasha.

That's not to say that Tony didn't flirt with him. Oh golly, did Tony flirt with him. But for all that Tony seemed careless, his way of flirting with Steve seemed very careful, as if there was a line that he didn't want to cross, one that Steve desperately wanted him to.

What was even worse than that, was that Tony had taken to staring at Steve in the most unreadable way. It wasn't in the way that he sometimes did after a fight, or when Steve was wearing an especially tight shirt. It wasn't a heated, probing look that made Steve feel shaky and hot. It was an examining look. It was exactly the same look Tony gave an experiment whenever something happened he didn't expect.

And every time he gave it to Steve, Steve remembered his words. _Everything special about you came out of a bottle._

The issue lied, really, with Peggy. Because if Peggy had not shown Steve those books and articles, Steve would have been able to repress these feelings. He had been doing it for all his life, hiding the fact that he was bisexual. But Peggy had shown him all the changes being made in that area, and suddenly, all that Steve had repressed sprang into action, demanding to be taken notice of. Steve had no choice but to accept the fact that he had been so long pretending was not the truth.

He had a huge, irrevocable crush on his teammate, Tony Stark.

Steve ached to talk about his realization with somebody, but he couldn't find the right person. Natasha was constantly trying to set him up with someone, so he couldn't be sure that if he let slip his feelings, she wouldn't try to force him and Tony together. The rest of the team wasn't really an option, especially not Tony. He laughed out loud at the thought. He could only imagine how it would go if he told Tony how he felt. Sure, Tony wasn't cruel, but he was an open person. He would not pretend to like Steve just to avoid hurting Steve's feelings. And then the whole team dynamic would be shifted, and Steve would be to blame.

Peggy, of course, was an obvious alternate to telling someone on the team, but Steve couldn't quite bring himself to do so. Firstly, she didn't know that Steve was Captain America, and if she didn't know he was Captain America it would seem as if Steve was just another one of the crazy people who claimed to love Tony without even knowing him.

And Steve did know Tony. Maybe not everything, not matter how much he wished that were true, but he knew other stuff, like how Tony survived on coffee, how Tony was constantly hiding stuff among the Helicarrier to pull out and snack on, even if Fury had ordered him, multiple times, to get rid of it all. Steve knew how Tony's eyes would light up when he finally solved something he would be working on. He knew the sound of Tony's lighthearted laughter after a mission that had gone right, the way Tony seemed to be twice as energetic and hyped up when he had finished a project.

He couldn't, however, tell Peggy how he knew this, so all of that knowledge would have to be left out, and Steve would just sound like a shallow man who loved someone he didn't even know.

He also couldn't tell Peggy about his crush on Tony because that just seemed a little too…lame. He wasn't one to judge someone on age, he knew that wisdom could exist in someone no matter what age. But talking to Peggy about his crush seemed juvenile, as if he was a teenage girl.

And maybe, just a little bit, he was afraid of what Peggy would tell him. He was almost entirely sure that Peggy would tell him to go after his crush, to tell Tony how he felt. And knowing Peggy, if he refused to do so, Peggy would probably find a way to tell Tony herself. Steve wasn't sure how, because he seriously doubted Peggy knew Tony, but he was sure that Peggy would find a way.

It was times like these when Steve ached with missing Bucky. Bucky probably would have been just persistent as Peggy, but he at least would have been able to give Steve good advice. Not that he didn't trust Peggy's advice, but some things needed experience to be spoken wisely about, and Peggy was only fifteen years old, no matter how many times Steve sometimes forgot about that. Bucky would have been the perfect one for Steve to run to, even if he would have teased Steve relentlessly.

God, Steve missed him sometimes.

"Steve?" Tony's voice appeared, this time not in his ear, but right in front of them, and Steve startled. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Steve asked, his voice coming out more challenging than he had wanted it to.

"You've been staring at the same dead spider for twenty minutes," Tony said, his face plate lifting up. He peered at Steve with intelligent brown eyes.

"Sorry," Steve said, reeling slightly. What if someone had gotten hurt because he had been so distracted? He needed to get all of his issues under control and stop allowing them to bleed through into the field.

"No worries," Tony said easily. "We had it covered, and I'm sure that if we hadn't, your subconscious Captain America would have taken over and helped us out."

"Subconscious Captain America?" Steve repeated, raising his eyebrows even as he inwardly glowed at the trust in Tony's statement.

"Well, yeah," Tony said. "You have a subconscious Steve Rogers, so when you go into Captain America mode, your subconscious does too."

"You make it sound like I have multiple personality disorder," Steve said, his lips twitching.

"Maybe you do, Capitan Asylum," Tony said, raising his eyebrows and then making a face.

"That was terrible," Steve agreed. They fell silent once more, and the words Steve had been trying to suppress jumped forward. "I was thinking about Bucky."

"Course you were," Tony said, though his words were not joking, instead sympathetic. They eyed each other for a second, and Steve felt bad for putting Tony on the spot like this. "I ever tell you about someone I knew who has the biggest crush on one James 'Bucky' Barnes?"

"Really?" Steve asked, surprised that Tony would share such an intimate detail about his friend.

"Oh yeah, like you wouldn't believe," Tony laughed. "Not the fake on in the comic books either. This girl, she's obsessed with the real deal. Spent tons of time researching about him, finding out as much as she could. In fact, one time…"

Steve smiled, letting Tony's chatter wash over him. It was a little creepy, he supposed, someone having such a big crush on Bucky without knowing him, but it was nice knowing that Bucky had not been forgotten. Someone out there still saw him for the hero he was.

Steve couldn't think of anything Bucky would have wanted more.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Peggy. All Marvel characters belong to Marvel. Obviously.

A/N: Review please. Review, review, review, even if it just to tell me that it sucks. Also, follow me on Tumblr, under the same name. But more importantly, review. I need to know if I'm doing alright. This format is kind of different than any other format I have used, more development and less dialogue, so I want to know if people enjoy it or not. Oh, and guess what? The drama begins!

Chapter 6

"So," Natasha started, smirking slightly in a familiar way. Steve glanced out of the corner of his eye at her, recognizing her tone of voice. Steve wished suddenly that Clint had joined them on this mission. It had been easy enough, merely taking out a known Hydra base, and they were already back in the Quinjet, on the way home. But if Clint had been here, Natasha would have had someone else to talk with, something else to focus on than Steve's love, or lack of love, life.

Steve eyed her, but she didn't say anything more, merely stared at him with the frustratingly knowing look on her face. He knew that she wanted him to say something, to ask what she was smirking at him for, and for a second he consider holding out, not giving her what she wanted, and then she raised a single red eyebrow at him.

"Yes, Natasha?" He asked, giving in.

"I noticed that after the last mission you and Stark talked for quite a while before joining the rest of us," Natasha said. "Do you have anything to say about that?"

"I was in need of comfort," Steve said, shrugging easily even as he felt queasy at the implications of her knowing look. He was getting better at accepting himself, and Peggy was certainly helping, but he still wasn't sure he was ready for other people to know about his infatuation with Tony, especially when he wasn't sure how the man in question would react if he ever figured out. "Tony was willing to give it."

Natasha remained silent for a moment, and Steve wondered if she too could hear the faint ghost of the moment where Clint would surely snicker, twisting Steve's word in a way that they were not intended. Her hand reached up, casually, as if shifting her shirt, but Steve saw her fingers brush over the arrow necklace around her neck.

"And that was all that happened?" Natasha asked, looking at Steve in a way that told him he better not lie.

"All that happened," Steve confirmed, nodding his head. Natasha looked faintly disappointed, the way she always did when she realized that Steve had not made any progress in filling his empty life.

That was the thing, though. His life didn't feel that empty anymore. The team was getting along much better, and he was almost entirely sure that they would all call him their friend. Even things with Tony had progressed since the mission Natasha was referencing. Tony seemed softer now, a little less defensive. It was as if he had been waiting for Steve to prove that he was human before he treated him as such.

And there was, of course, Peggy, who had easily stepped into the position of Steve's best friend. She was funny, and kind, and sometimes just the littlest bit crazy, but in the good way and Steve wondered if being that awesome came with the name. She was insightful and youthful all at once, showing Steve things that hadn't been around before, introducing him back into a world that was slowly becoming his again. She took him to museums, and dragged him around New York City for an entire afternoon, trying to find an object that she had tried with her father and had fallen in love with. She was amazing, and perhaps the thing Steve was most enraptured with about the twenty first century, only tying with one other inhabitant.

Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the buzz of her Starkphone, placed on the dash in easy reach. She had grumbled when Tony had forced it into her hands, but Steve had never once seen her leave it behind when they went on a mission. She lifted a single slender finger and swiped it across the screen.

"Romanoff, is Rogers with you?" Tony asked. Steve startled at the sound of his voice and leaned forward. There was a strand of emotion in Tony's voice that he had never heard before, and he struggled to place it.

"Yes," Natasha said calmly, though her brow furrowed. "Is something wrong, Stark?"

"Please tell me you have Peggy near you," Tony begged.

For one crazy second, Steve was filled with the ridiculous notion that Tony knew Peggy the way that Steve knew Peggy, a chance meeting that had evolved into a greater friendship. But then something clicked, and he realized that the person Peggy had so desperately reminded Steve of was Tony.

His mind rebelled a bit, reeling in confusion and he tried to think. Had Peggy ever mentioned her last name, at all during their time together? Given any indication that she was Tony Stark's daughter?

No, she hadn't. But that didn't change the fact that Steve was filled with utter certainty that Peggy was Peggy Stark, daughter of billionaire philanthropist genius playboy, Tony Stark.

"We're on a way back from a mission," Natasha said hurriedly. "We don't have Peggy. Is something wrong, Tony?"

The use of Tony's first name, coming from Natasha's mouth, suddenly grounded Steve. There was more important thing to focus on right now than the fact that Steve could not figure out that Peggy was the offspring of Tony, even though she was nearly the spitting image of him.

"I don't know where Peggy is," Tony told them, and Steve suddenly realized what the emotion that seemed so out of place in Tony's voice was.

Panic.

"Steve, did she say anything to you?" Tony asked a little desperately. "Did she tell you she was going to go somewhere, on a search to find something?"

"No," Steve said, shaking his head even though Tony couldn't see it. It was suddenly sinking in that if Tony didn't know where Peggy was, and Natasha and Steve didn't know where Peggy was, then something was wrong.

He felt like he was drowning. He had thought that Peggy was safe, or as safe as she could be, from the craziness of this part of his world. He had thought that she would only have to see the Steve Rogers part, not the Captain America. The suddenly realization that she lived in the same danger as him, that she was in it right now, left him breathless.

He would not lose another person he loved.

"Have you tried the others?" Natasha asked Tony, her voice bordering on compassionate but held back by the anger that was seeping through her defenses.

"Yes, none of them have seen her. Clint is searching the park now, but I would know if she was there." Tony said. There was a clatter away from the phone and Tony swore loudly.

"Alright, we're coming," Natasha said, punching a few of the buttons above her. "We'll be at the tower in twenty minutes." There was a couple of moments of silence and Steve almost reached forward to turn off the phone before he realized that Natasha was not done speaking. "Don't do anything stupid Tony. Remember, Peggy needs you."

The words resounded with emotion, and it was a couple of seconds before Natasha nodded to Steve to turn off the phone. Steve complied.

"Hold on," Natasha said, turning the controls quickly. Steve clutched at his arm rests and stared at her.

"How long have you known?" He couldn't help but ask. He knew it wasn't what was important right now, but he needed something to distract himself anyway from the fact that Peggy, his Peggy, was in danger.

"Known what?" Natasha asked, barely deigning him worthy of a glance. "That Peggy was his daughter? Are you telling me you didn't know?"

"She never told me," Steve said breathlessly. "I had no clue."

Natasha was saying something else, but Steve was taken over by a memory of Peggy, telling him the story about how her father had tried so hard to make sure she believed in the tooth fairy. She had been a very intuitive and intelligent little girl, so it had been hard on her father. She had told Steve how her father had gone through so much effort, fabricating evidence, making pictures and video footage with a sparkle streaking through, leaving glitter with little footprints tracked through it. When she spoke, it was appallingly clear that her father, a man who had gone through all the effort to make sure she believed in the tooth fairy, not even Santa, meant the world to her.

And that father was Tony Stark.

Steve wasn't sure he had ever been so in love.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters besides Peggy. The rest all belong to Marvel, as well as any recognizable features of this story.

A/N: Here you go. I know, a week late. But please review. I love reviews. Reviews make my day. If you review, you will make my day. Don't you want to make my day? I'm totally kidding myself, because I doubt anybody reads these author notes anyway. But if you do, kudos to you. You are a saint to read through this entire inane babble. I don't know how you do it. Oh, and also? Please review.

P.S. I don't agree with Steve's terrible view of himself. I know he is a precious cinnamon roll, with or without his serum. But sometimes I don't see him seeing that.

Chapter 7

Being kidnapped was far better than being the one left behind.

Tony knew this for a fact, because he was experiencing it right now. His mind, which was not usually his best friend, but usually at least not his enemy, not for a while, at least, was conjuring up various scenarios of who the people who had taken Peggy could be, and worse what they were doing to her.

Peggy, the most precious, amazing thing in this entire world, the greatest thing he had ever made. If someone hurt her, he was going to break everyone bone in their body before roasting them alive. With relish.

The best case scenario was that they had taken her for ransom. But that was unlikely, even if Tony wished it wasn't, because no one had gotten in contact with him yet, set their demands.

So they had her for another reason. A reason Tony knew he wouldn't like, because you never kidnapped someone just to be nice to them, even if he wished it was so. He prayed, even though he didn't believe in God, even though his scientific mind told him that it wouldn't help anything if he prayed, because no scenario was a good one right now. He prayed that his daughter wasn't being hurt. That she was taken for a reason he hadn't thought of yet, but wasn't to cause her harm.

And most of all, he prayed that she would be back with him shortly.

* * *

Steve had never felt quite so helpless. There were moments that came close, like when he had lost Bucky, the first time, and all he could do was sit on the side, in the camp, but they weren't the same as now. Now was even worse.

Because now he knew what he could do. Now no one would stop him from doing what he could.

But there was nothing he could do, because they had no idea where Peggy was. The world had never seemed so large, even back in the nineteen forties, when he had very little exposure and the amount of land he didn't know in the world seemed overwhelming. Peggy could be anywhere and while Tony was doing something with technology, Clint and Natasha were talking to their contacts, Steve was sitting on his ass, because there was nothing he could do. He didn't know how to send out face recognition. He didn't have people he could call to help him. Nearly everyone he knew was here, and the one other person he would have called for help was the one who truly needed it.

He was just the skinny kid from Brooklyn again, lost in a world where there was very little he could do, no matter how many fists he raised or people he angered. He couldn't fight his way to Peggy, at least not yet. His fists were useless right now, and Steve was back to the person who couldn't be any helpful, because his big muscular body was the only thing helpful about him and it was no use to anyone now.

* * *

"Tony." The words were said with the air of having been said a thousand times, but they were the first time that Tony heard them. He looked up and away from his worries, but they were still there, constantly running through his mind and bringing up worse and worse scenarios. He had forgotten what it was like, not having Peggy around to lighten the darkness, to get rid of the shadows that were trying to root in his mind.

Maybe if he had done something different. Maybe if he had paid better attention to her, escorted her personally to Steve. The worry that Steve would stop being Peggy's friend if he knew that she was Tony's daughter seemed foolish and juvenile now. If Tony hadn't been so vain, hadn't believed everything was about him, that he could ruin a friendship as pure as Peggy's and Steve's, Peggy would still be safe. She wouldn't have been snatched away from him, brought somewhere where he couldn't find.

"Tony," The words were now accompanied with soft hands on his arms, stopping his agitated pacing. Tony blinked, letting the world come into focus. "You need-"

"Don't you dare tell me that I need to calm down." He threatened. He couldn't imagine that anyone, even Natasha, who had posed as Natalia only to get close to him and stab him in the neck, could be so callous.

Natasha blinked calmly at him, but just behind the docile tranquility in her eyes there was panic and pain, and somehow that calmed Tony slightly. He was of the firm opinion that there was nothing Natasha Romanoff couldn't do, and it was incredibly reassuring to have her on his side. No matter what they thought about him, they would always care for Peggy, and that was all that really mattered.

"I was going to tell you that you need to listen," Natasha said. Tony nodded jerkily, but nonetheless pulled himself out of her grasp. His body needed to be moving, to not match, but at least replicate, the speed his thoughts were racing at.

"When we first met you, we weren't very honest with each other," Natasha said. Tony would have snorted with wry humor in any other situation. "And you eventually found out. And Peggy eventually found out. I wanted to make it up to her, to gain back her trust. I'm not ashamed to admit that I tried to use physiological tactics to win her over. But Peggy was having none of it. She remained strong, remained angry until she was ready to forgive me."

"After the whole Loki thing, I was a mess, man," Clint started, almost before Natasha was done speaking, his voice rough and his shoulders tight. Tony jerked his head up to stare at the man he hadn't even noticed enter the room when he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts, and realized that Bruce, Thor, and Steve had also joined them in the room. His eyes met Steve's for a moment, and he looked utterly wrecked. "I was scared to be around myself, scared to be around other people. Scared that I would relapse, that people would blame me for what had happened. I was mess. But Peggy was, is, stubborn. She didn't care about my self-pity. She called me on my bullshit. She wasn't scared of me, at all."

That seemed to be all he had to say, but Tony knew he meant what he had said. He just wasn't very verbose.

They all turned to look at Thor in a single moment that seemed practiced. Tony was starting to wonder if they had rehearsed this together, and was starting to feel angry, though he wasn't quite sure why yet.

"Peggy had picked up the hammer," Thor told Tony simply. Tony knew that, but somehow the reawakening of the memory made him ache even more. He could remember with perfect clarity Peggy's proud little beam as she skipped up to him, the hammer held loosely by her side. It had taken Tony a moment to realize what exactly Peggy was holding, but it didn't surprise him at all. He had known that Peggy was a nearly selfless individual who was perhaps the purest person in the world.

"I've seen Peggy hack into JARVIS because she wanted to sneak into your lab and plant a gift for you to find," Bruce told Tony, his brown eyes compassionate as he stared at Tony, even though his skin was tinged a bright green.

"Peggy managed to get me out into the real world," Steve told Tony. His voice was wavering and unsure, as if he wasn't quite sure he had the right to be sitting in this room with them, sharing his memories of Peggy. And suddenly Tony knew why he was bothered by what was happening. "That takes someone incredibly stubborn and strong willed. I-"

"No, stop," Tony interrupted him. "You all need to stop, because you're talking about her like she's dead, like we're sharing fond memories or something, and she's not dead, she's not."

"Of course she isn't," Clint said, waving his hand flippantly. "That's what we're trying to tell you, dude. There is no way that anything bad has happened to Peggy. You raised a capable little fucker."

Tony opened his mouth, to say what he didn't know, and then suddenly an alarm rang through the room, signaling to Tony that he had an incoming message.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters besides Peggy. All the others, and all the other publicly recognizable features of this story belong to Marvel and the writers of Marvel.

A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed. I loved the reviews. Also, thank you to all of those who have decided to follow or favorite me or this story. I know I don't mention it as much, but whenever I go on fanfiction, it makes me very happy to see that someone else has found me worthy. It's like you are Mjölnir and when you follow/favorite me you are allowing me to lift you.

Chapter 8

Peggy Stark was having a really bad day.

She didn't like to be overdramatic, okay, well that was a lie, sometimes she did, she _was_ the daughter of Tony Stark, after all, but she thought that you could have perhaps even added another really into the equation.

She was having a really, really bad day.

Being kidnapped sucked.

Funnily enough, she could have worked that out for herself. But it still wasn't the same, expecting something to be terrible, and then realizing just how terrible it actually was. She had only ever been kidnapped once before, though there had been a couple more attempts, and that had been when she was much younger. She could still remember it, but only a little. Mostly all she remembered was a blur of dark rooms and hurt, and the stark fear, the want for her father.

She had grown older, but that hadn't changed. She still wanted her father, badly. And she was still afraid.

But she knew that if you showed bullies fear, they would only grow stronger, find more pleasure in the torment. She knew that from experience, not that she would ever let her father know that. She could only imagine how her father would react. He would probably do something drastic, like blow it out of proportion, and that wasn't necessary. Her father had taught her well enough for her to know that bullies meant nothing, no matter how many times they made fun of her for being too smart, too small, and too friendless.

Well, she was friends with Captain America, and more importantly, Steve Rogers.

So the bullies could suck on that.

Of course, now probably wasn't the time for Peggy to take a stand against the bullies and inform them of this fact. After all, these bullies had guns, and knives, and didn't seem to be the harmless kind.

Peggy glared at the side of the face of one of her captors. He was a mediocre looking guy, but she supposed her evaluation might have been the result of hanging around the Avengers for so long. They were rather a very good looking team of superheroes.

He didn't turn to look at her, which made Peggy angry. She was trying to get his attention, after all. She needed to know what was going on here, so she could tell her father and, oh. Steve.

It looked like the gig was up with Steve.

The thing was, Peggy was proud to be her father's daughter. She really was. How could she not be? But most of the Avengers hadn't known her as Peggy first. They had known her as Tony Stark's daughter. Like she said, not a bad thing to be. But it had been nice when Steve hadn't known who she was, had only known her as Peggy, the girl he sat in the tree with.

At least with Steve Peggy knew that he wasn't liking her just for her father's benefit.

It was a ridiculous thought, but a nagging one, one that kept coming back to Peggy. She knew she was being silly, but she couldn't help it. It was easy to see someone tolerating her just so they could be friends with her father. She would probably do it too, to be close to her father.

Her father was a pretty amazing guy.

Which was probably why they had taken her. They wanted a way to get her father to come to them. And Peggy was the perfect bait, because her father would always come to get her.

Well, she wasn't going to just sit around and let that happen. Peggy had already sent a call to her father, letting the phone go on as he tracked it. She had slid the phone back into the dude's jacket she had taken it from, praying that her father wouldn't try to talk to her through it after he realized she was not on the other end.

"Alright," The guy she had been glaring at turned away from his little group of buddies and came towards Peggy. Peggy resisted the urge to kick out at him, but only because she wanted to figure out where they were going, and because she needed to take some more recon on the area before she showed them all her moves.

Because if she started fighting and couldn't find her way out, she had played all the cards in her hand before it was her turn.

"Get up," The guy said. The words seemed a little redundant to Peggy, as he heaved her to her feet with a meaty hand around her bicep. The guy, despite his average looks, had above average muscles, but he didn't use them like Steve did. He used them for force, for hurting, while the worst Steve did with his muscles was fight the bad guys and destroy punching bags.

"Where are we going?" Peggy asked him, trying to glean as much information out of him as she could. He shook her, growling, which Peggy thought was a little barbaric, and then started to lead her out of the room she was in, walking down the dark hall with long strides she could hardly keep up with.

Peggy directed her gaze to the ground, but she was counting every door they passed, every hall they didn't turn into. She even saw it when they passed a giant head with multiple tentacles.

Hydra. Of course. It was always Hydra.

"In here," The guy told Peggy. She tensed, prepared to make a break for it, because they only had one person guarding her right now, and she could easily take him out and make a break for it, and also because he was trying to make her go into a dark room with a single screen in it, and Peggy knew that good things didn't happen in dark rooms.

Except for _those_ types of good things. Which Peggy didn't really have any personal experience with.

Regardless, she was not going to go into that room. No way, no how. She lowered herself slightly as the guy holding her moved forward to open the door, preparing herself, getting into the stance that Clint had shown her and Natasha had improved upon. Her fist were ready, and she raised them, prepared to knock down this idiotic guy who hadn't even realized that she was glaring at him, and a voice spoke from inside the room.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice warned. It was the smug voice of someone who was a villain and they knew it, reveled in it. Peggy hated the owner instantly.

"Why not?" She asked as the guy who had been holding her only realized just now that she was about to spite him down with her righteous fists.

"Because I have multiple guns trained on you, ready to shoot as soon as you swing that little fist of yours," The voice told me. "Turn on the light."

Light filled the room, fulfilling his request, and Peggy grimaced into the shining room. He was telling her the truth. There were many guns trained on Peggy, and shed no doubt that every single one of them was loaded and ready to shoot.

"Bring her in," The voice, whose owner Peggy could now recognize as a middle aged man. He did not age as well as her father did, and he looked rather worn down by life. The guy, who she had artfully dubbed, The Guy, pushed her into the room and onto a table. Peggy sat down, taking turns glaring at everyone who was holding a gun to her.

"Now, you must be wondering why we brought you here," The man who owned the voice started, folding his hands over his middle.

"It may have crossed my mind," Peggy said, glaring spitefully at one of the men who looked weak. He averted his eyes from her, as if that would make her, and the problem she represented, go away.

"Well, you see, we have a new experiment," The man told Peggy. "And we thought, who better to test it on than the daughter of one of the most famous superheroes in the world. After all, his family had already been taken from by Hydra, why not add to the effects? Why not break two people, for the price of one?"

"Maybe, I don't know, because it is psychotic?" Peggy suggested. He shook his head, as if she were the stupid one.

"No," He denied. "No, you will see, once we are done. You will see how right we are."

That seemed to be a code, because someone started towards Peggy, holding a needle in his hand. She jerked, attempting to jump to her feet, but she was denied release by the restraints that suddenly wrapped around each ankle and wrist.

Peggy was stuck. And a needle with an unknown substance was coming towards her.

And everybody knew that this situation always ended historically well.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or publicly recognizable features except one genius and soon to be (spoiler) girl who is named Peggy Stark.

A/N: Here you go. This is the chapter where the fun starts to happen. (At least for Steve and Tony). Peggy's fun will happen later, when Bucky comes into the story. I just realized that I have given a spoiler, but I am soothed by the fact that no one ever reads these things. If you do, hey, you lucky dog, you have just gotten a sneak peek. Good for you. Review for me, please.

Chapter 9

"Tony," Tony heard the person speaking to him, recognized it even, but he didn't listen to the insistent tone of it, the plead for him to come back. He was already making his way up to the lab, where he had stashed his suit, because they had found Peggy, had found her because his daughter was a genius, and somehow braver and smarter than he would ever be, and she had found a way to contact them and give them her direct location. "Tony, please!"

Tony dashed into the lab and slammed a palm against the locking system, because he could tell, could feel it in his bones, some sort of fatherly instinct that he knew by now to trust, because it had been honed and shined by Peggy, that whoever was calling after him was going to stop him, and there was no way he was going to be stopped now.

He was going to find the people who had the audacity to take his daughter, and he was going to make them ever regret coming out of their mothers' wombs.

"Go away!" He shouted, more out of triumph than anything else, his back still to the door as he pushed on the catch, releasing the suitcase armor.

"No," Steve said lowly, his voice right behind Tony. Tony jumped, about to move away, the suitcase already catching around his wrists and starting to assemble.

"Rogers, you are going to be hurt if you don't back up in exactly ten seconds," Tony threatened. "Actually, no, I take that back, two seconds, because if you think you can stop me from running to save Peggy, you have another one coming."

Tony could feel, rather than see, Steve take a deep breath, preparing to say something, and he tensed. He didn't care if he had a giant probably unhealthy crush on Steve Goddamn Rogers, if this man tried to stand between him and his one true love, Peggy, his obsession with the living legend, who pretty much lived up to the legend, would mean nothing.

"Do you think I don't want to go get her too?" Steve finally asked. It wasn't what Tony had expected, far from it, so far that he had to turn around to see Steve. Steve, damn him, took advantage of his movement and slid his hands, which were unfairly warm and comforting, around Tony's arms, stopping the armor from forming over Tony's forearms. "Do you think that I don't want to drop out of this plane and run my way to Peggy, leaving the rest of the team in the dust?"

Steve sighed in something akin to frustration, staring at Tony with those big, soulful, blue eyes.

"I know it's not the same, Tony, but I love her too." Steve said. Tony swallowed the sudden emotion in his throat, because damn it if that wasn't the most beautiful thing Tony had ever head Steve say. "The entire team loves her."

"I could be there so much quicker though Steve," Tony said, his eyes, his voice, pleading for him to understand. It wasn't just a want. It was a need. Tony _needed_ to go to Peggy, needed to make sure she knew that Tony was not like his own father, who let Tony figure out his kidnapping on his own more often than not, who hadn't even noticed Tony's absence a majority of the time.

Steve's eyes remained resolved, the blue dark and stormy, but determined, and Tony turned to a different tactic.

Compromise.

"I'll even let you ride along," Tony told Steve. "We can go together."

For a moment, it seemed like it would work. Tony could see the battle in Steve's beautiful eyes, could actually see the thoughts clashing against each other. But then Steve shook his head, thoughtfully, dazedly, as if he was trying to convince himself.

"No Tony," Steve said. "You need to wait for your team, if not for anything else, then for the reason that we don't know what we're walking into. We need to be prepared and together, so we can ensure that Peggy gets out safely, unharmed."

"What if they're harming her now though?" Tony asked, his voice pitifully whining and desperate, even to his own ears. Steve's jaw tightened, and suddenly Tony was wrapped up in his arms.

For such a big, muscular fellow, Steve was remarkably comfortable and cuddly. Tony couldn't help but relax against him, even though Peggy was still out there, still could be being hurt.

"If they're hurting her, we will kill them," Steve promised, his voice rough and wounded, as if each time they hurt Peggy, they were hurting him.

Tony knew exactly how that felt.

"Thank you," Tony said, not wanting to be, but comforted nonetheless by Steve's embrace. He tried to speak and his voice caught. It was only after a few more tries when the words he didn't want to say but wanted to say, came out. "Armor disengage."

Steve let go of him, stepping back as the armor peeled itself back off of Tony's body, and Tony shivered when it was off of him completely. He used his armor to protect him from the world, and more importantly, as a way to protect Peggy, and so letting it go, even for only now, felt like he was giving something up.

Tony trembled, just slightly, but Steve must have seen it, because he placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, and that was all it took for Tony's tears to start spilling over. He swung at them, almost viciously, because he shouldn't be crying right now, it was pathetic, he wasn't the one who had been kidnapped.

Steve caught his wrists before he could make contact with his face, shifting both of Tony's hands into one on of his own, and Tony caught sight of scratches across his palms and the back of his hands from holding his hands were the armor was trying to catch on Tony's body.

The sight, ridiculously, made Tony cry even harder, and Steve made a soft, sympathetic noise, pulling Tony to his body once more. Toy cried into Steve's chest, feeling awful, because now was not the time for him to be overcome with emotions, he could deal with his emotions once Peggy was back home, and safe, and because Steve probably meant this to be just a gesture of friendly comfort, and some part of Tony, behind all the agony of Peggy's disappearance, was rejoicing at being this close to Steve, to being able to smell him, and being able to feel his firm, warm muscles, through his shirt.

Steve tilted Tony's jaw upward, wiping at his tears with his thumbs, and Tony closed his eyes, just so he didn't have to see Steve's pity, his disgust.

"Tony," Steve said, a tone to his voice that Tony had never heard before. "Open your eyes please."

Sighing, Tony complied, staring up at Steve and catching sight of his face just before it loomed too close as their lips connected.

Tony blinked, shocked, and instantly felt terrible, because not only was Steve kissing him out of pity, but he was also enjoying it, enjoying something while his daughter was being held captive somewhere.

"Stop," Steve mumbled against his lips before his tongue prodded gently against the seam of Tony's lips, urging him into action. Tony pulled back, a little confused.

"Stop?" He repeated, crinkling his nose. "I gotta admit, you're giving me mixed signals here, Steve. You were the one who kissed me, which, okay, I understand was out of pity, but still, you're still the one being an active participant right now."

"No Tony," Steve shook his head, clutching at Tony, his hip, his shoulder with almost desperate hands. "I did not kiss you out of pity, and I was telling you to stop thinking. You torturing yourself is not going to get Peggy back faster."

"You didn't kiss me out of pity?" Tony repeated, because he was terrible, selfish person, and that was the part of the sentence he focused the most on.

"God no," Steve scoffed. "Do you really have no idea how much you have been driving me crazy? God, I've wanted to kiss you for what seems like ever, Tony."

"Huh," Tony thought about that, running a tongue over his teeth. Peggy had told him, said about how she thought that they were going to be the best couple in the world, even when Tony had reminded her that they weren't together, but he had never thought it was actually going to happen. Maybe in a couple of fantasies, but never really.

Steve seemed to be getting the wrong message from his silence, and was backing away, his face set in anxiety and his neck flushing pink.

"I'm sorry," He apologized. "I'm sorry, I know this was an inappropriate time to do this, but you just seemed so sad, and I thought, wrongly, I see now, that I could help make you a little bit happier."

"Rogers," Tony held up a hand, stopping Steve's babbling. Steve looked at him, his eyes shiny, and Tony made an effort to allow his face to show the softness he was showing. "Steve. Get over here."

Steve, because he was a smart man, even if he was not a genius, complied.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I only own Peggy, no matter how much I wish it was otherwise. And when I say Peggy, I mean Peggy Stark, not Peggy Carter, who is way too cool of a character for me to have ever come up with. No, Peggy Carter definitely belongs to Marvel, like the rest of the Avengers in this story.

A/N: Probably don't expect any chapter update next week. It's my last weekend before school starts, and I suspect that I will be spending it wallowing in my misery at having to return to such a place. Also, for all the Rhodey fans, I keep meaning to mention him, to include him in the search party for Peggy, but I always forget when it actually comes to the writing part. I know, I'm horrible. But he's in this one, so you should all be grateful. Also, it's really short, so you can add that to just one more thing I have to be sorry for about this chapter. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Please review.

Chapter 10

Peggy had to be on fire.

That was the only explanation for how much she was hurting right now. And it wasn't just a hurting sensation, it was a burning sensation. It was the kind of burn that made her want to claw her skin right off, to dig deep into her body and pull out whatever was making her burn so much.

She hadn't known it was possible for a person to burn this hot and not disintegrate into tiny little pieces that were blissfully unaware of just how hot it had been before they became a thing.

God, she was hot, hot, hot.

It was like when she had had that fever when she was younger, and she had wanted to crawl out of her body and jump into a tub full of ice, only a million times worse. Because with the fever, she knew she was sick. She could tell that it would pass, that she would feel better. It didn't help much, because she had still been in absolutely agony, but it had helped some, because there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

She couldn't see a light at the end of this tunnel. The fire had to have been burning for at least a million years before now, and it showed no sign of stopping.

Would it ever stop? Would she ever be able to breathe again without wanting to kill herself, just to escape the pain?

She just wanted it to stop.

Peggy wanted her father so badly, it almost hurt more than the burning.

* * *

"Tony man, how are you holding up?" Rhodey strode forward, clasping Tony to his chest. Tony allowed himself to sag against him, unbelievably relieved that Rhodey was here. The rest of the Avengers loved Peggy, yes, but Rhodey had been there since the beginning. He had been there when Peggy was only a baby, and Tony had no idea what to do with her. He had helped Tony baby proof the house, listening to JARVIS' instructions carefully, making sure that no harm would come to the little girl he considered to be a niece, if not more. It was Rhodey who had been, with Pepper, the one to release Peggy, guiding her to Tony's arms when she had taken her first steps on her own. Rhodey had been there for every sickness and milestone, giving Tony and Peggy the support and evidence they needed.

It had been Rhodey who had assured Tony that Peggy could live with him if Tony had died.

"We found a location," Tony mumbled into Rhodey's chest, once he could speak past the sudden, giant lump in in his throat.

"I know," Rhodey said, releasing Tony so they could look each other in the eye. "Your fancy airplane better be all that it's made up to be, or War Machine is heading out on his own."

"Not fair," Tony said. "If anyone will be allowed to head out on his own, it will be me. That's my daughter in there."

His voice sounded petulant and whiny, and Tony almost winced at it himself. He would have, in any other circumstance. But Peggy was the exception to every rule he made when it came to maintaining his reputation. He didn't care if people thought he was a soft hearted, half octopus, half nymph cross dresser, so long as Peggy was safe and happy.

"She'll be okay," Rhodey assured Tony, clasping his shoulders. Tony could only manage a twitchy little nod, and then moved back, swallowing down the tears that weren't threatening to erupt again. He had already made a fool of himself by crying once today. And sure, it had ended well for him the first time, really well, but he was not eager to start the whole crying thing again.

So he moved back into the circle of protection that Steve was offering him, leaning back against the man's chest. If it was any other time, any other situation, Tony would have spent hours adoring how Steve could be so muscular and yet at the same time be so comfortable and warm, like a pillow. He would have written an entire ode in appreciation for Steve's muscles.

But for now he could only appreciate how Steve's arms seemed to draw at least some of the panic and fear out of his chest.

* * *

The burning had subsided, just a little, by the time they moved Peggy. Peggy wouldn't have been able to tell, because she was in too much pain to open her eyes, if it weren't for the fact that the burning increased when somebody picked her up, each point of contact burning hotter than before.

She couldn't help but cry out in pain as whoever was holding her carried her, the movement of their body sending waves of pain throughout her.

Suddenly she found herself out of the person's arms, but only to make contact with the ground, very roughly.

The pain flared like it had never done before, and she felt her back arch in agony as a scream tore its way out of her throat. She had been doing so well before now, keeping herself quiet. She knew she had been crying, there was no way she could have stopped it, but she hadn't screamed at all. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

But the impact with the ground had torn through all her defenses. She felt like she was no longer in control of herself, because it was just too hot, the fire just too painful, for any control to be left. It had all been torn away.

So she let the screams come out, let her legs flail and her finger dig into the ground.

She was in so much pain that she almost didn't notice how the ground, cold, hard cement, crumpled beneath her fingers.


End file.
